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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326431">settled for worse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/arizonateadrinker/pseuds/arizonateadrinker'>arizonateadrinker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>League of Legends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(no it isn't), Anal Sex, Frottage, M/M, Pirate AU, Spit As Lube, maybe the real plunder was the dick we got along the way</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:34:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,698</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27326431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/arizonateadrinker/pseuds/arizonateadrinker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>swain takes in a couple of strays for the night</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Twisted Fate/Jericho Swain/Malcolm Graves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>settled for worse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>AU with that one pirate skin swain has and the cutthroat/cutpurse skins for tf and graves except nothing significant happens because it's not that deep. must a fic make sense? is it not enough to have pirate swain getting some dick???</p><p>actually tho this is a hot mess i had to frankenstein together on mobile so like it is what it is. i'm sick of looking at it sryyyyyyyy!!!! all mistakes are mine i'll maybe clean them up later 😩</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tavern is busier than usual, the air filled with boisterous chatter and songs sung by patrons eager to enjoy what free time they have before dawn comes.</p><p>Swain's crew is celebrating another successful haul; weeks of planning and strategic executions of key players in Bilgewater's mad rush to recover a sunken Piltovan vessel's cargo had finally come to an end. They had a Zaunite buyer on the way who was willing to pay more to acquire it for himself than Piltover was to have it returned, and within the next 48 hours or so, they would be richer men.</p><p>Or at least Swain would.</p><p>His eyes scanned over the crowd, a blend of lesser crews, thieves, thugs, knives for hire, and his men downing drink after drink as if money wasn't a finite resource. He could lead them to plunder but making them think beyond who was picking up the next round wasn't his responsibility. Showing himself if only long enough to enjoy one drink so they could foster some sense of camaraderie was though and so here he was.</p><p>Each table was filled save for one tucked in a dimly lit corner that the tavern goers seemed to avoid. His table then. Not cramped but not anywhere a drunkard could spill a drink on him. lt wasn't near a window as he preferred but whoever had been told to find their captain a table had done well enough. </p><p>Swain moves to take his seat, navigating the rowdy mass of bodies with ease and managing to hide his distaste for them all the while. A glass, presumably the only one in the entire building, is promptly set down in front of him and filled with wine as he sits. He waves the crewman away and takes a sip once left alone, letting the taste coat his tongue before he swallows; it's watered down and hardly worth what he would be paying.</p><p>He supposes he'll have to find the tavern's owner and send them a message, perhaps personally, before they leave port again. Another task to add to the constantly growing list.</p><p>There's a roar of anger and the sound of fists hitting a table to his left that shakes Swain from half-formed plans and he glances over.</p><p>"A damned cheat, that's what you are!" a man snarls as he reaches across the table.</p><p>"Now, now, a losin' hand' ain't nothin' to get riled up over," comes a smooth voice that catches Swain's interest. Whoever they are, there isn’t a hint of worry there despite the lumbering mass enraged with them. The wall of bodies keeps him from seeing just who drew the ire of the hulking man with poor luck, so he waits and watches.</p><p>"Ain't that a fine idea, losing a hand. We'll see how lucky you are after you only got the one, rat," the man says.</p><p>A click pierces the air and the man freezes, unwilling to even turn and look at whoever has the barrel of an oversized gun pressed to his back.</p><p>"Easy partner," comes a rough voice but Swain can't see this man either. "You lost fair n' square. How 'bout you show us you ain't a sore loser and get out of here before you start makin' a real mistake out of showin' up here tonight."</p><p>The crowd around the table is quiet and the sounds of the rest of the tavern seem dulled as moments pass with none of the three men making a move.</p><p>"I ever see you again, I swear-" the man in the middle begins before being steered away from the table by the one with the gun.</p><p>"Yeah, alright, you're pissed. Now get the hell out," the man says as he guides the two of them toward the door, finally giving Swain a glimpse of him.</p><p>Broad shoulders, thick arms, and a scowl that looks like it rarely leaves his features. It's a face Swain's seen before on a few wanted posters drawn up by incensed captains around the canals: Graves.</p><p>Swain finally manages a quick look at the much calmer man pocketing his ill-gotten winnings that confirms it as his posters are always hung up right alongside Graves': T.F. He doesn't know his actual name—his posters only ever gave initials, a reward, and an emphasis on keeping him alive for punishment by way of being flayed alive— but he finds himself wanting to find out.</p><p>The pair aren't real threats as far as he knows. They’re both simple thieves while Graves occasionally played the part of thug and T.F. a silver-tongued cheat, but Swain knows better than to underestimate even the most unassuming man here. No one lasts long in Bilgewater if they can't keep up with its lowlife citizens, much less earn a bounty for themselves.</p><p>"You couldn't just throw a round or two?" Graves says when he returns to the table with a frothy tankard in hand and his gun in the other. He sits down across from T.F. with a grunt and takes a hearty swig of his drink, wiping the foam from his face with the back of his hand.</p><p>"I don't know what you're implying here, friend. I play what I'm dealt and if Lady Luck decides I'm a winner, well, who am I to tell her no?" T.F. replies, smiling sweetly.</p><p>"A damned rat who cheats so he can win anyway, apparently," Graves says and the two share a laugh.</p><p>Swain returns his gaze to his table and drink, swirling the wine gently in his glass as he formulates plans to uncover details of the duo to slake his newfound curiosity.</p><p>There are a handful of men in his crew who frequent the slaughter docks that he could send out to gather information; rumours travel quickly amongst those who carve up the leviathans pulled from the depths and a pair of troublemakers getting on the bad side of certain crews is certainly something to gossip about.</p><p>Swain mulls over the idea, drumming his fingers of his human hand on the table slowly. It's just as he's debating collecting their meagre bounties himself that he's shaken from his thoughts.</p><p>"Evenin', partner. You're lookin' a bit lonely there, you mind if we join you?"</p><p>Swain stiffens a moment at the voice but maintains his composure as he recovers quickly. Few would dare to approach him and fewer still would catch him off guard if they did.</p><p>"If you've come to try and swindle me with parlour tricks and your partner feeding you information, you'd do well to reconsider," Swain says coolly as he turns to level a withering look at his uninvited guest.</p><p>T.F. doesn't look put off in the slightest and slides into the chair opposite of Swain with a grin.</p><p>"You got me all figured out, huh?" he says, leaning forward to rest on a forearm.</p><p>"It's hardly novel, but I suppose the imbeciles here don't require much more," Swain replies, not bothering to hide his disdain for the vast majority of the tavern's clientele.</p><p>"Well, aren't you a charmer. Ain't he a charmer, Graves?" T.F. says, turning to his companion who walks over but refuses to sit. </p><p>He's restless despite appearing calm, Swaim gathers. Despite handily dealing with a problem earlier, it still managed to get under his skin.</p><p>"I'm not keepin' track, what'd he say?" Graves says with a slight slur. Evidently, he's into his cups as well, even before he'd escorted out their latest mark.</p><p>Part of Swain could admire the facade of sobriety he'd put on then, while another part wondered if appearing drunk now was the true mask. Graves isn't as put together as his companion but there's enough there to tease a thread of curiosity from Swain.</p><p>"Nevermind, how about you go n' get me my usual?" T.F. says, nodding at the drink in Graves' hand.</p><p>An unspoken conversation passes between them as the two lock eyes; Graves frowns and T.F. raises a brow. It ends quickly though as Graves concedes and lumbers off without a word </p><p>Swain notes the moment of silent communication and takes a sip of his drink to mask his interest. They're close enough to convey words, maybe entire schemes, with just a look despite their differing temperaments and it's something to be admired—or exploited.</p><p>"I have to say, you pick up on things mighty fast, friend," T.F. says as he turns back to Swain, his easy smile back in place.</p><p>Swain meets the other's gaze and for a brief moment, he swears he sees a flash of something, easily dismissed as a flicker of candlelight reflected in his eyes by anyone else, but enough to have Raum stir a moment.</p><p>Magic, then. Something not native to Bilgewater, nor anything like what he'd seen back in Noxus. It's something far too subtle for the empire's constant wars but it's still magic nonetheless and he suspects it plays a part in T.F.’s winning hands.</p><p>"Not fast enough it seems. Commendable that you've hidden it so well for so long," Swain says, moving to rest demonic arm in full view; a threat and a show of his own power. Regardless of what kind of magic this swindler has, he refuses to allow himself to be trifled with.</p><p>T.F. freezes at the reveal and his smile wavers as realizes just who he'd so brazenly approached.</p><p>"Well! Pardon my intrusion on your night, captain," T.F. says as he recovers quickly.<br/>
"Never would've expected to find a man like you in a hovel like this."</p><p>"I've a crew lacking a taste for anything finer than overpriced, watered-down rotgut. If making an appearance helps cement their loyalties while they debase themselves for a night, who am I to deny them?" Swain replies.</p><p>T.F. chuckles but doesn't get a chance to respond as Graves returns with another tankard of something that he sets down.</p><p>"There you go, your highness," Graves grumbles as he hooks his ankle around his chair from the table they'd been at previously and drags it over to finally sit.</p><p>"Much obliged," T.F. says and takes a sip before speaking again. "Y'know, this place ain't good for much beyond idiots who can't keep up with a few fancy card tricks and cutting their drinks with rainwater instead of seawater but the mead? Pretty fine, all things considered."</p><p>Grave snorts at that as he moves to kick up one cracked boot to rest on the edge of the table as he leans back until he's balanced the chair on two legs. "Ain’t we a little too close to the canals to expect anything nice?"</p><p>Swain raises a brow as he watches the two but says nothing.</p><p>"Malcolm," T.F. says with a slight frown, and Swain picks up on the name usage. Finally, he has a first name for one. "Just because we aren’t uptown, doesn’t mean we can’t want something a little nicer for ourselves."</p><p>"Just saying, there’s no sense in pretending," Malcolm mumbles and rights himself again with both boots planted on the floor.</p><p>"Doesn't matter. The point is, it's better than what you're drinking and you'd wake up with fewer headaches if you just trusted me on this," T.F. says then turns back to Swain. "Pearls before swine and all that, you know how it is."</p><p>"Tobias," Malcolm says with a hint of warning in his voice.</p><p>"Malcolm," Tobias replies evenly, and with that, the bickering ends before it can start. A slight tension hangs between them but neither man chooses to do anything with it, so Swain does. There are better uses of his time and they'd inadvertently sated his passing curiosity.</p><p>"Well, this has been most enlightening, but I'm afraid my patience for this place has run its course," Swain says, breaking the silence and reminding the two that they weren't alone.</p><p>"So soon?" Tobias asks and his demeanour shifts with the question. There's a slight pout on his face now that draws Swain's eyes down to his full lower lip.</p><p>The switch is abrupt and Swain’s almost impressed by how seamless it is. The warm amiability had vanished and took any hope of an easy mark with it, but Tobias still wants something. Swain knows what of course—he’s no stranger to finding someone for just a night without being involved— though he can’t say he much cares for it being danced around.</p><p>Still, he eyes them closely without hiding his intent. They're not an unattractive pair, Tobias' lithe form and angular features a nice contrast to Malcolm's much stockier build that’s far more typical of those living in Bilgewater. Their initial intentions aside, Swain’s allowed worse to touch him, and he’s supposed to be celebrating, besides. It’s an indulgence but one he isn’t above allowing.</p><p>"As I said, an appearance from their captain is all my crew needs. I don't intend to spend my night here, though you are most welcome to," he says, rising from his seat.</p><p>Swain downs the rest of his drink and he can almost feel the heat of Malcolm's gaze on him, watching his throat as he tilts his head back and swallows. He feels the urge to smile creep in when both Tobias and Malcolm visibly stiffen when he licks his lips after he’s through and tosses a few silver serpents from an inner pocket of his coat on the table to pay their tabs.</p><p>"Gentlemen," he says as neither a farewell nor an overt invitation to follow as he leaves them to decide for themselves. He'd be content either way.</p><p>Eager to follow, Malcolm finishes his drink messily and leaves ale trickling down his chin and neck that he doesn't bother to wipe away. It's Swain's turn to watch as his eyes follow the thin trail that slides down Malcolm’s collarbone until it's obscured in the deep shadows cast in the dim lighting. He wants to chase it, to drag his tongue down the tanned skin as he presses the other down into the table, but he can control himself; he will. He turns to leave without another word.</p><p>The scrape of chairs behind him confirms they've made up their minds though and he finally allows a hint of a grin.</p><p>The trio walk the streets at a leisurely pace, Tobias and Malcolm occasionally laughing or stumbling over each other behind Swain who leads them through the bustle of night toward the docks. Others scramble to get out of his way when their eyes catch flashes of his arm beneath the heavy overcoat and he swears he hears Malcolm mumble something along the lines of maybe letting a demon hitch a ride not being all that bad. If only he knew.. </p><p>When they reach his ship, Swain pauses the take in her appearance as best he can in the dark. The soft flutter of wings above heralds the landing of his demonic flock far above and he accepts nothing is amiss when they don’t call out. Satisfied, he boards with Malcolm and Tobias in tow. The few crewmen left aboard nod as he passes them on the way to his quarters but as always, say nothing when they see he has company. </p><p>The door to Swain’s quarters isn’t locked as he steps into the room first and waits for the other two to shuffle in after.</p><p>Malcolm whistles lowly after the door's shut behind him and he's had a moment to take a look around as he sets his gun to rest against a wall. ‘Ever the thief, taking stock of whatever isn't bolted down’, Swain thinks. Still though, he seems more alert and the threat of having to remove him if he'd passed out later was likely gone. The question of just how drunk Malcolm is or isn’t seems doomed to remain unanswered.</p><p>Tobias however, looks around with a much keener eye which Swain notices without an ounce of surprise. He'd figured Tobias would be the one to worry about most </p><p>It's a risk to allow him in he knows, but he's certain the whisperings he’s heard about himself is enough to dissuade deft fingers from trying to find trinkets he isn't fool enough to leave in the open.</p><p>"I fully expect to find nothing missing once you've taken your leave," Swain says pointedly, narrowing his eyes as he glances at Tobias whose attention snaps from the shelves he's eyeing to Swain.</p><p>Swain trusts his reputation, yes, but there's little harm in giving voice to the warning.</p><p>"Now why would I go and do an underhanded thing like that, hm?" Tobias says with a lazy grin as he walks over, his hands sliding under Swain's coat and pushing it from his shoulders.</p><p>"'Cause you're a damned fool is why," Malcolm mutters from his place near the door as he finally gets both boots off. There's a brief flash of irritation from Tobias but he says nothing in return.</p><p>Swain resists the urge to pick his coat up from the floor and instead allows himself to be guided to his bed. He sits down and Tobias follows, swinging one leg up to straddle Swain with his hands resting on his shoulders.</p><p>"How we doin' this, boss?" Tobias asks, one hand sliding to Swain's neck to play with the soft hairs at his nape. "Malcolm isn't the patient type so if you're lookin' for one at a time then I'm sorry to say you're just going to have to leave me unsupervised for a while."</p><p>Swain shrugs Tobias' hands off and motions for him to climb off.</p><p>"Some of us have business to attend to before noon, you'll have to learn to share if you haven't already," he says, removing off his boots and sliding back onto the bed.</p><p>"Suits me just fine," Malcolm says, one hand reaching to squeeze Tobias' hip gently before he guides him aside and crawls over Swain who allows himself to be crowded into leaning back until he's resting on his elbows.</p><p>"Your demon friend, it ain't comin' out to play, is it?" Malcolm asks warily as his eyes dart to the eerie glow of Swain's left arm.</p><p>Swain snorts and raises the clawed hand up to curl into Malcolm's hair, holding him in place. He relishes the shiver he feels as Malcolm can’t quite hide his trepidation at having the inhuman limb touching him.</p><p>"Nothing happens unless I will it," he says simply before pulling the larger man down into a kiss.</p><p>It's exactly as he expects kissing someone like Malcolm to be— messy and rough. The taste of whatever he'd been drinking that night is still present, and yet Swain doesn't pull away despite the bitter tang of it. Malcolm's hunger is matched by the feeling of Raum prickling under his skin, eager for more than just a taste and demanding to be unleashed to devour Malcolm and all his secrets.</p><p>Swain's clawed fingers tighten their grip in Malcolm's hair at the urge and he feels the other wince and pull back a little. Swain releases his grip and gently drags the clawed tips of his demonic hand over Malcolm's scalp in silent apology, drawing out another shiver and another kiss, this one a little more subdued. Swain smiles at the slight show of deference, as he’d expected the larger man to be far more stubborn. Perhaps with someone else, he would’ve.</p><p>"You gentlemen mind if I cut in?" Tobias asks from his place beside the bed and finally, Malcolm pulls back.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on. Or- whatever," Malcolm says with a definite rough edge to his voice that betrays how affected he is already.</p><p>Malcolm pulls back and away from Swain who returns to his reclined position as he watches the two. Tobias gives Malcolm a quick peck then moves to sit on Swain's hips. </p><p>Tobias shrugs out of his coat, tugs off his gloves, and deftly removes his belt and sash, tossing each to the floor to join Swain's coat in a heap.</p><p>"Sit up for a sec," Graves says as he kneels onto the mattress with one leg.</p><p>Swain and Tobias adjust their positions so Graves can slide in behind Swain to act as a strong and stable wall for him to lean back against.</p><p>It's a vulnerable position, Swain knows. It wouldn't take much effort at all for the pair to take advantage of having him between them like this, but the heat of Malcolm's chest at his back and Tobias' lean fingers navigating the planes his front ease the suspicion from his mind. Raum rages under his skin again at the decision, the demon's demands to rip their true intentions from them coming in the shape of Swain's demonic hand burning a little brighter for a moment, but he refrains. He could, but he doesn’t. Not now.</p><p>When Malcolm takes to nipping at his neck with quick bites that are just short of being painful then, Swain's thoughts are once again pulled back to reality. The drag of his beard tickles more than anything now and he squirms but there’s nowhere to move to from his place between them.</p><p>Tobias leans in closer and rests his hands on Swain's chest as he takes the chance to kiss him for himself. It’s a welcome distraction and again, Swain isn't surprised to find Tobias is better at this than Malcolm. He's not as hungry or uncoordinated, and it's almost nice. The lingering sweetness of mead is present, and Swain knows he wouldn't enjoy it much had he drunk it himself, but the faint taste with each press against his own tongue is just enough to have him chasing down what he can of it.</p><p>Tobias smiles into the kisses as his hands travel around Swain's body, one hand tracing the large scar running down his chest while the other unfastens and removes Swain's sword belt and sash.</p><p>"Damned show off," Malcolm mutters at the display of dexterity and Tobias huffs a quiet laugh against Swain's mouth.</p><p>"He's just jealous. His hands aren't all that quick but they're plenty good at somethin' else," Tobias says and pulls back, the electric blue of his eyes meeting the bright red of Swain's with a gleam.</p><p>"I would hardly call pulling a trigger a skill," Swain says flatly and remains still as Tobias climbs off of him.</p><p>"It's not that easy," Malcolm protests to himself in a tone that Swain can almost hear him pouting through. They don’t bicker though and Swain is grateful for it.</p><p>Things move quickly from there, with Tobias pulling Swain's pants off in one swift movement while Malcolm wraps one arm around Swain's middle to hold him upright and he beckons Tobias to come closer.</p><p>Tobias kneels between Swain's legs and takes two of Malcolm's fingers into his mouth, his eyes locked on the larger man as he does so. There's a hitch in Malcolm's breathing and Swain knows that even with just fingers, Tobias’s mouth has uses beyond teasing tastes of mead and honeyed words.</p><p>The two share a look over Swain's shoulder that he only gets half of, but the smug grin on Tobias' face as Malcolm frees his hand says enough.</p><p>“You good with this?” Malcolm asks, freezing behind Swain.</p><p>“You’d know if I wasn’t, now get on with it,” Swain snaps.</p><p>Malcolm clears his throat and readjusts himself behind Swain to hold him a little tighter. "Raise your hips," he instructs and drags a hot trail down Swain's front, pausing for the other to obey and then presses his wet fingers to his entrance but doesn’t go any further.</p><p>Swain bites his lip and resists the urge to tense up but the effort isn't entirely unnoticed as Tobias moves back on the bed to rest on his stomach with his head just above Swain's half-hard erection. </p><p>"Mind yourself, Malcolm," Tobias says and earns an annoyed grunt in response as he takes Swain in hand and strokes him lazily.</p><p>The feeling of the rough pad of Malcolm's finger teasing but not quite slipping inside as Tobias slowly strokes him is a new experience. Swain rarely takes partners to bed, much less two, but the attention lavished on him by two sets of hands makes a convincing argument to consider making it a much more frequent occurrence. It does wear on his patience much more quickly though.</p><p>It's as he thinks about telling them just how he feels about the needless consideration they’re trying to show that Malcolm slips in his fingers slowly.</p><p>It's a surprise, though not an unwelcome one, and Swain's back arches at the sudden intrusion and he sighs. It isn't painful, he's not new to this, but it does have him holding his breath a moment and his fingers grasping the sheets as Malcolm does his best to work his fingers in and out.</p><p>Tobias hadn't been wrong, Malcolm's hands aren't as nimble as his, but it hardly matters when he cants his hips down to meet them and it sends shivers up his spine.</p><p>Tobias takes his chance to take Swain into the wet heat of his mouth and Swain lets a low groan slip free at last. His hand works whatever he doesn't take into his mouth and his tongue laps at the underside of his cock expertly. It's a steady, even rhythm compared to the rough handling Malcolm offers, but the contrasting approaches complement each other well enough that Swain finds himself humming and rolling his hips slightly, meeting either Malcolm or Tobias each time.</p><p>Swain would be perfectly content to finish like this and if they kept at it a little longer, he would, but he doubts either man is here to simply please him then scurry off.</p><p>His hunch proves correct as Malcolm removes his fingers and takes to manhandling Swain until he's got him resting against his chest with his legs held up and apart to expose him fully to their third. Tobias openly leers at him, taking in every detail with an appreciative eye that makes him miss being filled much more keenly.</p><p>Tobias moves to sit beside the two and presses a soft kiss to Swain's shoulder as he manages to get his hands to Malcolm's pants and frees him. Swain wrinkles his nose at the sound of Tobias spitting in his hand, mentally calling them both beasts for having nothing better, but when he reaches down to spread it along Malcolm and lines him up for him, the feeling of disgust is swiftly replaced with anticipation.</p><p>He can't tell how large Malcolm is and he almost wants to know but the thrill of finding out momentarily sends a pretty flush down his face and chest that Tobias chases with soft kisses.</p><p>"Easy, now," Tobias says softly, though whether it's meant to be instructions for Malcolm or soothing words for Swain isn't clear.</p><p>Malcolm hums and lowers Swain down to sink into him until he bottoms out with a pleased groan.</p><p>It's almost alien how much fuller Swain feels when compared to earlier and his eyes slide shut as he focuses on the sensation. The bed sinks as Tobias moves to kneel between him again and has his fingers loosely wrapped around him just enough to provide some friction but not enough to push him over the edge too quickly.</p><p>Malcolm doesn't waste any time from there and rocks into Swain slowly, drawing out a soft sigh from him before he gets a firmer grip on him and snaps up into him harshly.</p><p>Swain yelps and his hands scramble to find purchase on something, anything and wind up grasping the top of Malcolm's thighs. He's careful not to allow the claws of his left hand to dig in too deeply but he knows there's a bit of blood when Raum whispers little inconsequential things about him that the demon learned from the merest taste. It isn't enough to dissuade Malcolm any as he keeps up his pace of quick, shallow thrusts that has Swain inadvertently jerking into Tobias' hand.</p><p>"You doing okay there, boss?" Tobias asks and the look on his face when Swain finally opens his eyes is insufferably smug, like he knew Swain wasn't expecting to enjoy this as much as he is. He refuses to rise to the bait though.</p><p>Tobias has been in Swain's position more times than he could count though as he now knows, and he knows being fucked into so roughly, as if Malcolm seemingly lacked any consideration for his partner beyond chasing his own orgasm through them, had no business being as good as it is.</p><p>Tobias moves closer and Malcolm slows down enough to keep Swain still enough for Tobias to take up the space in front of him.</p><p>"Now I figure the kind of business you have means you aren't looking for two right now," Tobias says with one hand creeping down Swain's side until his fingers are stroking around the rim of his hole where it's stretched around Malcolm, teasing but not pressing inside but sending a keen shiver up Swain’s spine. “But I figure I can still take care of us and get out of your hair real quick.”</p><p>Tobias’ voice trails off as he tugs his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free.</p><p>Swain almost wants to object, his thoughts addled and his cultivated tendency to simply take what he desires daring him to tell Tobias otherwise. He can’t though as he knows one night of chasing something new with a pair of strangers he’s still not entirely sure he should let run amok doesn’t outweigh the benefits of getting his crew their pay. Another time, maybe.</p><p>Tobias moves closer until he’s close enough to take both he and Swain in hand and strokes them together in a snug grip. His lips latch onto wherever Malcom’s mouth couldn’t reach and he sucks and bites his own marks onto Swain’s flesh, lapping at each reddened spot before moving to a new patch of skin to make another. His free hand pushes the bandana from Swain’s head to let his hair fall and stick to his forehead and curls into the inky strands to tug gently. It’s not painful but it is electrifying and Swain sighs at the tension. </p><p>It’s a back and forth between his breath being stolen, the sharp sting on his scalp and the staccato rhythm Malcolm set for them. It’s overwhelming and all encompassing and Swain knows despite everything, he’s going to look a mess tomorrow. He can only just spare the mental power to wonder if Tobias knew it would end like this and if he simply wanted to brag about it later. He hardly knows the man but he wouldn’t put it past him.</p><p>There’s a shuddering groan from behind that grounds him again and Malcolm’s pace stutters a moment. Swain instinctively clamps down on the other as Malcolm tenses as he comes inside, shuddering as he struggles to keep the two of them upright through.</p><p>“Better hurry before he drops you,” Tobias says as he pulls back just enough so that he and Swain are sharing a breath and somehow, the cheeky remark is enough to send Swain over the precipice and he hates it.</p><p>He gasps and tenses between the two men, his nerves alight with pleasure as he comes and spills over Tobias' fingers that stroke him through it. He feels suspended in the sensation for just a moment, taut and unmoving, and then it ends and he's boneless between them; nothing more than a pounding heartbeat beneath overheated skin, muscle and bone that feel leaden, and lungs that can't seem to get enough air in them.</p><p>He sighs as Malcolm slips out and Tobias lets them both go, having finished himself without Swain's notice. His legs are finally let down and the unfurling of his body is a relief.</p><p>Swain knows he looks like a thoroughly debauched mess with Malcolm's spend dribbling out of him and his front sticky with a rapidly cooling blend of his and Tobias', and yet he can't muster the energy to care for once. He's kept from the invading chill of the room by the two bodies still holding him close and the burn in his legs is almost pleasurable as he can finally stretch them out.</p><p>Tobias shuffles back and off the bed though and the moment where Swain considers sleep passes when cold air meets his still overly warm flesh.</p><p>Malcolm doesn't make any moves to leave right away though which Swain is grateful for.</p><p>"Just relax now," Tobias says softly as he returns, this time with a rag in hand.</p><p>Swain opens his mouth to object but thinks better of it and allows Tobias to gently wipe his front mostly clean.</p><p>"You think you can take care of the rest?" Tobias asks when he's finished, his gaze flicking back down to Swain's lower half before meeting his eye again.</p><p>"I'm hardly an invalid, be on your way," Swain says and mentally grimaces at how rough he sounds. </p><p>Malcolm scoffs behind him and finally moves away and off the bed.</p><p>Swain flops back down into the damp sheets with a sigh and closes his eyes, waiting for the pair to leave instead of giving them a show. </p><p>When he hears the clink of belts and the thud of Malcolm's booted feet hitting the wood again, he opens one eye and glances over to watch them go.</p><p>Malcolm hesitates a moment with his hand that isn't carrying his gun on the doorknob but says nothing as he steps out first.</p><p>"Been a pleasure, captain. Hope we meet again real soon," Tobias says with a bright grin before he slips out after his partner and the door closes.</p><p>When Swain wakes the next day, sore and looking forward to a stop at a bathhouse before he does anything else, he can't bring himself to be surprised that his small spyglass has disappeared.</p><p>He supposes he'll just have to track down the thief and take his dues.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if u made it to the end, thx for reading (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡</p><p>come say hi <a href="https://starguardiansett.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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